


A Beginner's Guide to Ending It All

by indoorkites



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Angst, Drug Abuse, F/M, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-06
Updated: 2014-07-06
Packaged: 2018-02-07 16:03:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1905186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indoorkites/pseuds/indoorkites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The downwards spiral of Elizabeth Childs began several months ago, and ended on the platform of a train station.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Beginner's Guide to Ending It All

_P u r s e - s e t  i t  o n  t h e  g r o u n d._

 

They had been a pretty damn good team. The cop and the scientist and the soccer mom. And Beth barely knew them, but she did know this: She’d always wanted sisters.  
  
Maybe she wouldn’t have chosen these sisters. The uptight housewife and the trippy science geek. But there’s a certain hole left in one’s chest after growing up alone, and now, that hole was filled with secret meetings at night in Alison’s garage, and phone calls with Cosima, and shooting guns together.

Things were really strange. But things were also really simple.

Beth could handle clones. She could handle extra, discreet work in the office, researching their origins and any data she could get her hands on. She could even handle a rumored clone-serial-killer in Europe, so long as they didn’t show up in Canada any time soon.

This was what she couldn’t handle. She hated herself for it, but this was the worst. 

“I mean, I’m just saying. Is it really off the table?” She tried to look confident, but her voice faltered as she said it. She’d started this conversation with a smile, grasping his hand. And now she was crawling further inside herself with every word. She threw her hands on her hips and made herself look taller, with great effort. 

Paul rubbed his temples, and didn’t move from his seat at the table. “Jeez, Beth. Why do you want to talk about this now? I…we’re still young, we-

“I’m sorry, when would be a better time for you?”

“I don’t know, when we can _both_ agree on the whole marriage thing?” Paul looked up at her now, full-on eye contact. “I’m just not ready, Beth.”

Beth took a few breaths. And when she spoke, she found that she was mad, but also very confused. “We’ve been together for a long time.”

“I know.”

“You even said when we met that you wanted to settle down with a family one day. I remember liking that about you.”

Paul blinked for a second, as if he was digging through a file cabinet in the back of his mind labeled _“Shit to say that’ll get you laid”_. “Yeah, I guess I did. I’m sorry, Beth. But I’ve told you before- marriage is bullshit. It doesn’t mean anything. It’s a piece of paper.”

“If it’s just a piece of paper, then sign it for me. It means something to me. It doesn’t have to mean anything to you. But I am fully committed to our relationship. Are you?” Beth said the last words as aggressively as possible. And she stared at him. And he stared back.  And for one of the scariest moments of her life, he said nothing.

 

“Paul, I-”

“I’m going to the gym. I need to just…get some air. Sorry babe.” He stood up too quickly and kissed her on the cheek and left.

She allowed herself 30 seconds. That was what she did when cases got really bad at work. If there was something she couldn’t deal with, or something she got too invested in, Beth gave herself 30 seconds. And by the end of that 30 seconds it was time to move on and get things done.

She called Alison. And for once, the 30 seconds didn’t work. Alison Hendrix answered with a sing-songy, “Afternoon!”

And Beth Childs erupted in tears.

 

10 minutes later, Beth used up her last tissue and asked Alison the question that had been on her mind for weeks.

“Why doesn’t he just leave me?” Again, not mad. Just confused. Beth had been dropping hints for weeks and Paul had been shooting her down with awkwardly detached statements the whole time.

She sniffed, and was relieved that the hideous crying was over. She checked the mirror in the kitchen- shit. She looked like hell, and who knew when Paul would be back.

“Because he loves you!” Alison insisted.

“Bullshit. Even you know that’s bullshit.”

“Beth.” Alison sighed, and Beth even heard a slight _tsk_ on the other line. “All I know is that he’d be an absolute fool to leave you.”

Later that night, reading some cheap mystery novel in bed while Paul snored next to her, she considered that statement. Maybe he was foolish. Maybe he was just a fool who hadn’t quite gotten past his heroic army-boy stage and was terrified of the idea of marriage. Maybe he did love her. Maybe he didn’t want to leave. No, maybe he was scared to leave.

 

Or maybe… it was impossible for him to leave.

 

* * *

 

_S h o e s -  t a k e  t h e m o f f ._

 

He kept her running, and she was grateful for that.  They did countless marathons. They’d stopped having sex almost entirely, but at least they were still running. Sometimes they’d be on a 5k loop around the lake, and Paul would trip over a rock or something and they’d laugh and she’d almost forget.

They had been having frustratingly quiet dinners lately. He would ask her how work was that day and she’d give him a one word answer. Because that was all spies got. And then she’d ask him about his day and he’d start to talk a little more, but then trail off and seem to give up.

She’d stopped touching him. They hadn’t been constantly fucking before, but now she shrugged off most of the suggestive hands that came her way. So he’d pretty much stopped trying. Sometimes they’d kiss, but he always started it, and she always ended it. Sometimes, when they were both too deprived, they’d get each other off and immediately fall into a deep sleep.

He’d finally started to notice the meds, and that was probably why he didn’t push her on any of this. Sensitive Beth, unaware Beth, keep her under your spell Beth. Occasionally he’d comment on her increasing number of antidepressants and she would resist the temptation to blow up in his face.

_I’ve given him more exciting things to write down and report to his bosses (whoever the fuck they are). He should thank me. Here’s a few more names to write down, Paul darling, next to Prozac and Zoloft._

He’d started writing things down when fall arrived and she’d started getting those feelings. Those dismal fall feelings where everything starts to feel cold. Everything. And the meds that the good old doctor had prescribed were like a warm quilt. And when she took extra doses they felt like hot chocolate, and like flames crackling over logs. When she mixed them sometimes, she got a little dizzy, but she liked layering blanket after blanket over herself. She liked pulling them over her head and blocking the world out with soft cotton.

Work was on top of her all day every day, and she knew about the Prolitheans now. She had sketches of that dumb fucking fish on several pages of her notebook. In her meetings with Cosima and Alison, they pretended to be nonchalant about the whole business, but tensions were getting higher. If Beth had thought she could just kick back and relax with her sisters in this whole clone situation, then she had been a grade A moron.

Months ago, all this stress meant shaky hands when she held her gun and a shaky voice when she tried to tell Paul that she loved him. So then stress meant medicine to stop all that shaking and clear her mind.  And they’d been doing just that ever since.

Paul’s attempts to be discreet while he checked her pill bottles and scribbled down the names were…not surprising. Unfortunately, Beth had successfully employed her surveillance kit weeks ago. And the footage told her everything she wanted to know, and everything she didn’t.  She knew what Paul and his scientist friends did when she was asleep. And she knew now that Paul couldn’t leave her. He never would. For as long as Beth lived. Maybe one day he’d agree to marry her. But all of that meant nothing now.

After all, marriage was just a piece of paper.

* * *

  _B l a z e r – f o l d  i t  v e r y  n e a t l y._

 

She’d read about people who planned it weeks in advance, sometimes even months. Hers was a day-of thing.

Once she might have been the kind of girl to plan everything out carefully. Make sure she didn’t leave any messages, send all the letters she needed to send, cover up any evidence. But on that morning she dragged herself up into sitting upright in her bed, her eyes barely able to stay open, and she just had a feeling that she needed to do it soon.

The meds were not enough now, but she took some anyway, taking them out of the nightstand drawer. Not the usual mammoth-sized cocktail of drugs, but just enough to numb the usual shit. Then she looked at her sleeping companion and kissed him once, to wake him up. She needed one last confirmation that there was no point in trying with Paul.

He awoke in confusion, startled by the soft lips that were now touching his shoulder.

“Morning.” He mumbled, and awkwardly rubbed her back. Then he leaned up to kiss her fully on the mouth, and she sort of sunk into it helplessly, trying to remember when they first met and she couldn’t stop kissing him.

They stayed there for a bit, and then nothing else happened. When he pulled away (usually she was the one to pull away, but this time she waited for him to make a move), his lips stretched into a thin smile. “Off to work?”

The old Paul would’ve kept it going until there was no point getting out of bed for hours. But then again, the old Paul was nonexistent. That was fake Paul. And this was still fake Paul. So fake Beth smiled and nodded. She got dressed in her work clothes, and left her apartment for the last time.

 

Alison was surprised to see her. Beth paused in the doorway, and wondered for the umpteenth time what her friend would say if she told her what she was planning to do. How she would try to stop her. Alison Hendrix was pretty feisty- she might even beat the shit out of Beth just to keep her from doing something stupid. Beth chuckled to herself as she sat down on the couch across from Alison. The image of Alison beating anyone up was certainly entertaining.

“So. Hearing tomorrow? Are you nervous?”  Alison smiled gently as she set down a mug of coffee next to Beth. For a moment, Beth stared at Alison’s eager face. She remembered seeing those features so similar to her own for the first time, what a shock it had been. Familiar and yet entirely unfamiliar. Now it just felt normal; real. Alison and Cosima, Katja, Art, the Prolitheans- they were real. Beth was the imposter. Fake. Practically plastic.

And ah. The hearing. Just another reason to add to her list- she shot Maggie Chen. Not that the Prolitheans were good people. But Beth hadn’t become a cop to shoot civilians. And all the shit surrounding it, and the hearing…

“Nope, not nervous. So- any news about that supposed killer in Europe?”

“No, no word from Katja yet. We’re still waiting on those samples…oh! We might get them soon though.” Alison nodded. “I’m assuming you already heard about Danielle.”

“What? No, who’s Danielle?”

Alison’s brows come together and she sighs. “The French clone? She was the last surviving European.”

Beth blinked. “Was?”

“She, uh-“ Alison drew a finger across her throat. “It’s a shame, isn’t it?”

“Jesus.” Beth rubbed her forehead. “The Austrian one was like a week ago, right?”

“Yes, this killer is certainly very eager.” Alison tsked. Then she took a sip of coffee and smiled. “Was there any other reason for your visit? Or are you just here to steal my coffee?”

She was teasing. But Beth still felt a pang in her chest. “No, I should go, actually.”

“Really? Oh, alright.” Alison looked a little hurt. She followed Beth to the door anyway, and gave her a quick hug goodbye.

 

Beth didn’t give herself time to dwell on Alison. She had a train to catch.

* * *

 

_S e t   a s I d e   t h e s e   i t e m s – a n d  w a i t._

When no one else is there to see her, she can’t help it- she starts sniffling, and oh fuck, here it comes- more crying. She didn’t cry nearly this much when she was Real Beth.

She’s never been in the train station this late before. The few times she uses the train, its when she goes back to Toronto to see her mom. Those visits have gotten farther and farther apart, however, now that Wendy can barely remember who Beth is. That’s okay, neither can Beth.

She paces back and forth. She holds her head in her hands, and it feels so heavy, and so full of pain. She feels vulnerable in just her tights and dress. And now, there it is. Ah- the train approaching. Horn in the distance.

She can hear footsteps behind her and she honestly doesn’t care. Maybe it’s the clone killer, here to unite her with her European sisters. Maybe it's Paul. Maybe he knew somehow, and he came here to stop her…

It’s ridiculous, but it makes her grudgingly turn around and face the newcomer. Why she ever thought it would be Paul is a mystery to her.

She feels dizzy, and she knows that the medicine she mixed together this morning was probably one of those combinations her doctor specifically warned her about. Who even cares. She looks at the girl who is very familiar and yet entirely unfamiliar, and she hopes that whoever she is, she’s stronger. That she’s real. And Beth wishes her luck.

_W a i t ._

 

_W a i t ._

_L i s t e n  f o r  t h e  w h i s t l e  a n d  w a t c h  f o r  t h e  l i g h t s._

 

_J u m p ._

 

 

 


End file.
